I Hate the Kitchen By Lois Lane
by fullmetalmarta
Summary: A humorous and romantic look as to why Lois really gets annoyed in the kitchen...it has something to do with the six foot four tall dark and bumbling Clark Kent who is always hovering two breaths behind her...
1. I hate the kitchen by Lois Lane

**I HATE THE KITCHEN  
By Lois Lane**

_If I wrote all the reasons and ways and methods that have catapulted me into the long foregone conclusion of why I hate the kitchen, I could indeed provide the world with an encyclopedia on it, and not one of those buy one get one free encyclopedias…but the Britannica…you know, the one with 44 volumes? _

_But it doesn't matter, because I really,really started hating the kitchen at the Kent's. Yes the Kent's…the one that only saw culinary disasters when I happened to participate. And just to give you an idea…Martha Stewart has no leg to stand on when compared to Martha Kent. No kidding, I've never seen someone do so much and make it look so easy. But try as she might…there was no helping the intrepid Lois Lane. As patient as she was….it just never failed….I always became distracted._

_Now if cooking in the kitchen simply amounted to making coffee…then I would be the cone…conee.."_

**Spell-check displays two words…Cone sour being one of them…Lois groans and stops typing and looks around the bullpen and sees Clark standing at the file cabinet. **

"**Hey Smallville…how do you spell connoisseur ?**

**"Don't tell me your writing about coffee again?"**

**"Haha funny..."**

**He looked over at her and gave her a disapproving shake of his head and then said, "C… O…N…N…O…I…S…S…E…U…R….What happened Lois, did you break your spell check?"  
Rolling her eyes, she said "No…not yet, but I'm working on it…" Looking back down at her screen, she continued writing.**

_Now if cooking in the kitchen simply amounted to making coffee…then I would be the Connoisseur of the kitchen…no holds barred! Unfortunately for me, I even managed to ruin that in the Kent kitchen. _

_It's not that I don't try…it's just all the things that have to happen at once, and the six foot four giant constantly hovering giving very specific and very unwanted advice on not only how but when and even where to perform the most mundane of task. I don't know how many times I told him ..."Relax, I got this…" it has to be a world record…really! But to no avail, tall dark and bumbling kept showing me everything from cutting carrots to importance of washing dishes as you cook._

_Being in a kitchen with a guy you like who is off limits in every way possible is a sure way to lose your concentration. For one thing hovering two breaths behind a girl has the annoying effect of having one's brain shutdown and their libido turned up. And hovering constantly, touching arms hands while talking to said girl, has the also annoying effect of turning a girl deaf to whatever is being said._

_Ask me if I heard you all you want….I didn't and never will…not when you stand that close to me._

_He so doesn't like me like that. All we do is argue, and anytime someone remotely damsel in distressy comes his way...(which actually happens a lot!) ...he's after them faster than the red blue blur is when catching criminals. Anyway…I have this theory about guys, they like to test drive women in the kitchen. They want to see how they interact with them. In a personnel enviro…eniviro…"_

**Hey Clark….How do you spell environment?" **

**"First connoisseur and now environment? What are you even writing about? Greenpeace?"**

**Narrowing her eyes and minimizing her page just in case, she answered quickly with... "Just spell it for me…" He walked over and saw the daily planet website, but not what she was writing.**

**Curious as to why she was hiding what she was writing, he tried baiting her with..."Maybe I could proof read it for you…"**

**"You? Please….that would be like a first year English student attempting to proofread something Steinbeck wrote…"**

**He looked at her with his ever large smile and arm around her chair, she began feeling hot again.**

**"You know….I bet Steinbeck could spell environment."**

**Smiling at him sarcastically, she countered with "Funny…chop chop now….I've got work to do…."**

**Standing back up he straightened his tie, and said "E…N…V…I…R…O…N…M…E…N…T, and Lois, the next spell-check is going to cost you."**

**"yea yea…"**

_I have this theory about guys, they like to test drive women in the kitchen. They want to see how they interact with them. In a personnel environment, and believe it or not, the kitchen is one of the more intimen….itnaimen..._

**Looking up at him sitting at his desk deep in thought over something, she sighed and opened up her word document thesaurus, in hopes the elusive word would pop up there.**_** "How can I manage to finally find intimacy with someone when I can't even spell it?" **_**She mumbled to herself. She quickly started typing when she found it**

_I have this theory about guys, they like to test drive women in the kitchen. They want to see how they interact with them in a personnel environment. Guys like to see how a girl responds to him when he invades what society usually deems as her space. Believe it or not, the kitchen is one of the more intimate places there is for becoming a couple unfortunately for me I struggle on both fronts with remarkable consistency. I always thought it was a pretty accurate observation. That theory was blown out of the water when he started to hover over me anytime I attempt anything…and I do mean anything, in a kitchen. _

_I was boiling water once and he told me I was doing it wrong…seriously! How can you tell someone that their boiling water wrong?_

_So now I have this second, third and forth theories. He does it to annoy me. He can't stand around and not stick the stick in the hornets' nest….he has to push his luck to prove….what I don't know. He does tend to get enjoyment from competing with me and winning….Go figure!_

_Then there's the possibility that he is under the very misguided opinion that he can actually teach me how to cook. Seriously, if his Mom can't help me, I believe I've pretty much missed the boat on that skill._

_And then the last theory is self preservation….he knows how most of my attempts end up, and he assumes he can minimize the damage that I tend to do in a four by six room that houses major appliances. In any case, I have leaned one thing…. the…_

**"Lois…are you coming?" **

**Looking up he was putting on his jacket and smiling……"Come on Lois…If we're going to get a jump on helping Mom with the thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, we need to get going…"**

**"You know, as a Senator, she doesn't have to cook at all she could cater the whole thing…"**

**"You're just afraid you're going to start another fire like you did last year…"**

**"That was not a fire! It was just a little smoke…and you know I had a deadline!"**

**"How many kitchens have you torched Lois? Three? Four?"**

**"Hahahaha …funny Smallville…Give me a minute will you?"  
"Sure thing Lois**…"

**She shot him a sarcastic half smile and focused back on her work. Smiling, she had her closing sentence**

_And then the last theory is self preservation….he knows how most of my attempts end up, and he assumes he can minimize the damage that I tend to do in a four by six room that houses major appliances. I tried the "It's not burnt, it's Cajun" a couple of time with him, but that didn't fly with him. Okay, just because he's put out a couple of my disasters…that doesn't mean I'm a fire bug in the kitchen…. In any case, I have leaned one thing…the coffee maker is usually my appliance of choice in a kitchen, only seconded by the microwave. Reason being….I've never started a fire with either one of them. _

_But seriously, how many kitchens can one girl burn down in lifetime?_


	2. I HATE THE KITCHEN PART TWO

**I HATE THE KITCHEN-  
PART TWO**

The Kent kitchen was covered in food, Lois insisted on getting twice what was on the list and paying for it, Reminding Clark…"It's the least I can do after all your Mom has done for me…"

Reluctantly he relented, but only because she used the magical words…"your mom…"

Putting everything away was not hard, Putting everything away, while there was a football game on the in the next room was hard. And on top of that, putting everything away while constantly bumping into and dancing around Clark was impossible.

"Clark! Stop annoying me!" She said after running into his chest for the third time.

"It's not my fault you don't look where you're going…" Then he smiled at her. It was as if he knew what he was doing to her and enjoying it.

She let out a sigh and passed him by not taking the bait for more banter. The Kent kitchen was _**soo **_not the place for their banter, mainly because they already spent too much time together and especially since the kitchen seemed to shrink whenever he was around.

The thing was, Clark had learned to become more and more comfortable around her banter and sarcasm; he gave as good as he got, and constantly threatened to overcome her with his own insightful barbs on a daily basis.

It was an invitation for someone to get carried away. It was the last thing she needed, and especially in the ever shrinking kitchen space she found herself in. At least in the office their desks were separate, on opposite sides. If he came into her personal space she for the most part could see him coming.

Having Mrs. Kent come in the kitchen should have made things easier, but Clark used the appearance of his Mom to hover even more.

Trying to ignore him, she turned and started chattering to his mom,

"Okay, I got all…"

"_We_ got…" Clark interrupted.

Rolling her eyes, she continued…"As I was saying…_Clarkie_ and I got everything on the list, but I was sure if you needed any seasoning…so I got a variety and I also got extra bread and Clark said you needed some Flour, but he didn't know how much or what kind, so I got the ten pound bag, oh yea I also got you extra aluminum foil, brown-in-bags, a timer for me…."

"Especially the timer, we don't want another fire now do we?"

Frowning at him impatiently, she continued with, "…and most importantly ..."

All the while Clark seemed to be dancing back and forth all around her taking things out and putting them away. Even his Mom frowned at him at one point.

"…some wine for the Cook!"

Martha shot a curious frown at Clark as he kept up the dance he had been doing around and between them, and then smiling at Lois she answered , "Thank you Lois…I forgot about the nutmeg and the sage…."

"No problem Mrs. K…"

* * *

A short while later Martha was working on a couple of things for the next day, and Lois was washing dishes. Martha watched Clark come in the kitchen with a curious interest…

"You missed a spot…"

Lois raised an eyebrow at him, and grabbed the plate he was holding up out of his hand. Rewashing it, she handed it back to him, and he started to rinse it.

"Clark….I got this…"

He just smiled at her and waited for her to continue washing.

"Clark, really…I got this…"

"I don't mind helping…"

She took a breath and letting it out she went back to washing. "How's the game?" She asked searching for a safe subject.

"It's going great, your team is losing…" He said looking at her with a large smile.

"Just my luck…"

"You're the one that insisted on betting…"

Frowning at him, she replied, "Don't be so cocky Smallville, there's still two more quarters left…"

Martha quietly looked back at the two. Neither of them seemed to be aware that anyone else was in the kitchen, or the world for that matter. He was acting different around Lois. It was almost as if he enjoyed fighting with her, when before it just aggravated and irritated him to no end. It was even more interesting the way Lois was avoiding arguing, when before, she couldn't wait to take a shot at Clark.

It was an amazing thing to watch.

Lois remembered watching a movie where a woman was thinking of her lover as she washed the dishes. Standing right beside Clark, and having him constantly brush her hands with his, made her wish that she had never seen the movie. Still, she was keeping a bland conversation going, in spite of his attempts to tease and taunt her.

Finishing the last dish, she handed it to him, and proceeded to take a stack and set it up, only to find a pair of hands on her waist steadying her. Her heart started pounding, and she swallowed and quietly let him.

Grabbing the silver ware, she started putting them away, only to have him taking knifes and forks out her hand one at a time to help her. After that, he kept putting his hand on her shoulder and on her back as she cleared away what they had washed. Lois tried countering him by asking Martha what else she could do, amused at the pleading frustrations in Lois's voice, she first looked at Lois and said…"Here Lois,…you can help me with this…" and then turning to Clark she said, "..and Clark….would you start a fire in the fireplace?"

Half frowning, half smiling he answered quickly with "Sure thing Mom…" And as he walked out, Martha added…"Oh and please make sure there's plenty of wood ready…it's supposed to stay really cold the next couple of days."

Turning slightly, she saw Lois breathe a sigh of relieve, and pretended not to notice. Whatever had changed between them one thing was sure….it was going to be an interesting Thanksgiving.


	3. THE SECOND HALF

**The Second Half**

Two quarters later Lois's team did indeed loose, handing a twenty to Clark she was back in the kitchen and started pulling out ingredients from a list Martha had given her. Leaning against the door frame and grinning at her. She shot him a sarcastic smile and turned to grab a measuring cup from the cabinet, only to find a pair of hands annoying her. One had found its way on her waist and the other was reaching around her and grabbing the elusive cup for her. Quickly turning to move toward the silverware drawer, she quickly found a solid wall of Clark blocking her way.

He held the cup in one hand and measuring spoons in another.

"Are you trying to annoy me? Or are you still gloating over the game?"

"They only scored once! How could you seriously believe they would beat the cowboys?"

"Please, the cowboys won't even make it to the super bowl! They never do!"

"We weren't betting on the super bowl, besides…that's not why you bet against them…"

"Okay Mr Scoreboard, why did I bet against them…"

"You always bet against them…Admit it…you just don't like them…"

"Any team that has the audacity to call themselves 'Americas Team' deserves to lose…"

Grinning at her as she bounced around the kitchen, he quickly pointed out..."Actually Lois...They didn't lose..."

She had lost him to the other side of the kitchen, but only for a moment. When she took out potatoes and started pealing them he was right beside her, grabbing one out of her hand, and grinning.

"Betting against you betting against the Cowboys on Thanksgiving Day is just too easy."

She shot him a sarcastic grin and tried ignoring him.

It didn't work. She had to command he self not to gaze in his eyes as he smiled at her, and then to himself. It made her want to lose more bets. Irrationally she wanted to touch his hand and a devilish urge to make a pass at him continued to drive her crazy.

Instead she decided to take her frustrations out with a knife. She walked away and came back and grabbed a potato out of his hand, and then she began cutting them. She then began concentrating on something else, she started trying to imagine and count every color and type and shade of Plaid that she had ever seen Clark wear. And then she started imagining him taking off one of those plaid shirts and smiling to herself, she thought she had found relief when a voice shook her from her musings.

"Lo-is!"

"What!" she answered him loudly. Guilt flushed through her when she wondered to herself if he had somehow read her mind…

"You're going to cut yourself!"

Frowning with relief, she realized he had only discovered something else she was doing wrong.

_"Go figure…" _But before she knew it, he wrapped his arms around her and he was holding her hands and literally showing her how to cut potatoes…

That's when it hit her, whether he realized it or not, he was marking his territory. The only question that lingered in her mind at that point was it because she was in HIS kitchen, or was it because SHE was in his kitchen….her libido was reeling from the warmth of his body when he finally broke her train of thought…

"Lo-is…did you hear anything I said?"

Instead of shooting back a sarcastic answer which he was fully prepared for, she said quietly…"Clark really I got this…"

He stepped back annoyed. Was she mad? Why should she be mad, he was only trying to help her? He was frowning at her; she of course went back to cutting the potatoes her way.

But before he could say anything, just as he predicted, she cut herself.

"Ow!"

"I told you!" he said, and then took her by the waist and took her to the sink, she then watched him rinse her cut, and grab a bandage and put it on her finger. When he finished he looked to see her staring at him.

She was tempted to say something sarcastic, but couldn't find any words that wouldn't get her into trouble, words like_..."you want to kiss it and make it better?"_

Finally a quick "thanks" pooped out of her mouth and she went back to cutting, only this time he was behind her again, he was saying something, but she had no idea what it was, all she could hear was the beat of her heart as his hands held hers showing her how to cut a potato safely.

_"No wonder I'm an idiot in the kitchen…."_


	4. IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR

**IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR**

She roamed down the stairs tiptoeing quietly to the kitchen. The soft snore of a man in the distance gave her relief that she was indeed safe and alone, if only for the moment. Going to the refrigerator she quietly took out a bottle, and then walking over to the cabinet, she took out a wine glass. It was an unopened bottle, and looking around for a corkscrew in a drawer and then back around at a body laying on the couch, she quietly managed to open the bottle.

"Success!" she whispered to herself, and then pouring a glass she proceeded to polish it off.

Hearing noises in the kitchen he knew who it was. But he hesitated to go check on her.  
The near miss hours ago left them both reeling.

He was enjoying himself. Then again he should have known he was playing with fire. Ever since the day he met her, he found himself developing a particular problem. Anytime they argued, bantered disagreed…anything…he started losing control of one particular part of his body.

It was one reason he asked Lex to break some rules…having a girlfriend realize someone else was having an affect on him wasn't a problem he needed- he had too many problems as it was. He didn't even like her then…not really, not much…

But today years had gone by and he had learned to ignore his reaction to her, to the point of being able to hide it very well.  
But he was having fun. He needed to watch her, argue with her, and help her…touch her. It was innocent enough; surely she didn't know what he was doing.

But he thought he could just spend some time with her, show her she could cook, and enjoy the rhythm between them.  
He was having fun…she was annoyed with him, but she still she let him annoy her.  
He was completely happy.

And then she had told him in an altogether too quiet voice that "I've got this…really..." as if she was angry or disappointed in him…or worse rejecting him altogether.

He pulled away long enough for her to cut her finger. And then after bandaging her up there was this moment when he was sure she was about to try to kiss him. Instead, she just mumbled something and went back to cutting potatoes the wrong way.

At least he could stop her from injury…that was all he meant to do, but standing behind her taking her hands in his, the unthinkable happened; she leaned back into him and sighed. Not just any sigh but a purr. And then it happened, he rersponded by dipping his head next to hers and moaning.

A micro second she started pulling away from him and he backed up several steps. It was Martha's footsteps approaching the kitchen had propelled them apart.

She wouldn't even look at him.  
The thing was, she had felt his reaction to her and not pulled away, and instead she sighed and sunk into him.

He had no idea what it meant, and he was willing to bet, neither did she.

The rest of the day was unusually quiet between them.

He was waiting for her to say something…do something…nothing.  
Thus why he hesitated going in the kitchen, only to meet a cold stare and silence.

But after what seemed like an eternity to him, he decided she wasn't leaving the kitchen.  
She was either finishing off the desert, or the wine…or both.

Slowly he walked over and saw her sitting her back to him.

Gathering up his courage, he slowly walked past her to the refrigerator and started taking out the milk.

"Whoa!"

A hand grabbed the milk out of his hand and placed it back in the refgrigerator, and then she pulled him over to a chair beside the one she had been sitting in.  
Taking out another glass from the cabinet, a slightly intoxicated Lois, sat the glass down and poured some for him, and then she sat back down.

"You're going to help me celebrate…"

"Celebrate? Celebrate what?" He wondered if she was trying to ignore the whole incident.

"Not burning anything down, not starting any fires…"

She raised her glass and he couldn't stop himself…

"Well…"

Frowning at him she respondeed with an annoyed "What?"

"There was that one moment when we were…a ugh…."

Frowning, she waited, deciding she wasn't going to help him one bit. The whole thing was his fault after all…

"Lois…we should talk…"

"Look Smallville…"

"Are you…I mean…you're not mad at…"

Biting her lip, she took a breath and then interupted him, "I have this theory about guys and kitchens…"

Laughing nervously, He waited for her to continue, when she took a sip of wine instead, he finally asked.

"And what exactly is this theory?"

Smiling a tight smile, she seemed to blush when she answered, "I don't know if I should tell you…"

He smiled at her and waited patiently

"Do you really want me to continue?"

"Yes…" he answered her by drawing out the sound of the word, as if her question was a riduculas one

"Over time, I have observed that men like to test drive women when they're in the kitchen…but then lately I thought maybe I was wrong…because you've been…well...ugh..."

Grinning nervously at her he tried lightening the air with… "Just when have you had time to observe anything in a kitchen? In Lois you burn down everything within twenty feet of the kitchen…"

"Including you?"

A large blush grew quickly across his features, if she wasn't as embarrassed she would have found it amusing.

"Lois, I ugh…"

But before he could continue, she interrupted him again,

"I have a confession to make…" He nodded at her slowly, and her heart nearly exploded….nervously handling her glass, and looking around for some way to escape, and discovering none, she continued.

"I have _always_ liked the feel of your arms around me…"

"Wha…ah…really?

"Even when we first met…"

"Lois, I…really??"

"I mean we argue all the time about everything…especially then I ignored it…I've tried ignoring it now…" looking at him and gauging his reaction, she decided to continue.

"The thing is....I don't think we can sweep this one under the rug…."

While she watched him watching her, silence hung in the air between them as the realization hit him…she liked him…she really liked him…

Unable to stand it any longer, she asked quietly after taking another sip of wine…  
"So…do you have anything you want to confess?"

Smiling and blushing at the same time, he said quietly…"I wish we were never interrupted..."

Surprised she answered him quickly, with one word "oh…" as she made an exaggerated O with her mouth

"Sooo…"

"So…" and then smiling a knowing smile, he asked…."…what about your theory…"

"I think….I think I'll reserve my judgment for the next time I'm in your kitchen."

"You're in my kitchen now…"

She answered with a half worried, half hopeful…"I know…"

It was his move. She had basically cleared the way for him...nervously he got up and walked around and stood behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he waited for her to get up.

When she did, she kept her back to him, he wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back into him.

As he dipped his head down to hers, she made a low noise, and they stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, finally she whispered, "I should go up stairs…"

"Not yet…" She heard him say.

She wanted to stay with him,but taking him upstairs was a little too fast....too dangerous. Looking over at the couch she thought about asking for a corner of it, instead, she whispered ever so quietly,

"I want to stay with you…"

She did.


End file.
